A Bizarre Twist of Fate
by Jiyle
Summary: AU What did the past avatars think when Aang ran from his duty? Some of them are known to be rather brutal, after all. What if they split and there was a new avatar? An avatar we would never expect.


I do not own anything

**IMPORTANT BACKGROUND INFO: **My first Avatar fic. Inspired by _Balance_ by VickyVicarious.

Warning: OOC!Azulon

* * *

There was no one there to watch when the Avatar began his hundred year hibernation. The roars of his bison, Appa, were lost in the sounds of crashing waves and booming thunder, and the rain too thick and lightning too sudden to notice the splotch of fur as it tried to navigate the storm. The only indication of his disappearance was the tattoos on a young boy's body lighting up in a light that could never be imitated by mere mortals.

The child wasn't aware of the thoughts of his past lives, watching solemnly from the Spirit World. He had no idea that, due to his actions, a dispute would break out between the past avatars on whether or not Aang of the Air Nomads was worthy to be the Avatar if he had run away from the responsibilities that had been – and always would be – his destiny.

He wouldn't know that half of his past lives would combine their strength and, after a long and difficult process, separate their souls from his, moving on to find the next Avatar.

He would be the first of the incomplete Avatars, the first of the Elementals.

* * *

Fire Lord Sozin stood at the edge of the barren cliff, hands clasped behind his back as he watched the last of the Air Nomads fall, dead. The screams of the lone monk fell unnaturally quiet as liquid life ran out of a gap in his chest at an alarming rate. He closed his eyes and prayed forgiveness from the boy who had once been his best friend, having decimated one fourth of his being and reason for existence.

Minutes ticked by as his troops made their way back to the area where they had set up camp. They were each thoroughly inspected for any 'trophies' before being sent back to their place in the ranks. It was the people whom Sozin wanted dead. The culture, the relics of the free way of life that Roku had so avidly explained to him so long ago was something that he wanted to preserve for as long as possible.

He nodded to the general, a stocky man by the name of Zhen, to deliver his report. He cleared his throat, glancing at his nervous looking adjacent before proceeding.

"Every Air Nomad we could find was killed, sir," he said, a detached note that was drilled into every Fire Nation soldier heavy in his voice. "Every monk, nun, and child in the Air Temples as of this morning are dead. However…"

Sozin turned to face him, a frown deepening and creating a pit in his stomach.

He cleared his throat again, beginning to show the first signs of anxiety before continuing. "We could not locate the Avatar, sir. We interrogated some of the monks before killing them. They claim he ran away – that he rode into the lightning storm we passed a few days ago. They think he's already dead, sir."

The uneasiness that had swelled faded, leaving nothing but an unpleasant tingling. He turned back to the cliff, gazing at the now abandoned temple. "If he has died, then he has already been reincarnated into the Water Tribe."

"Shall we eliminate the Poles then, sir?" he asked.

Sozin paused. "No. We have already destroyed one of the culture of people. If we destroy another, then we may anger the spirits. Send teams to the North and South, and find out who the next Avatar is. When you find him…" A whisper of doubt churned his mind and heart, and an unbidden memory of days of emerald grass and mock-duels rose to the front of his mind. He closed his eyes, crushing the thought with ruthless efficiency. "I want you to end him."

* * *

As it turned out, the next Avatar wasn't a 'him' at all. Born to two young and loving peasants, Avatar Senna grew up sheltered and under the firm protection of warriors from both tribes. An intelligent girl with plenty of skill and beauty, it was a shame that she had to die. Originating from the Southern Tribe, Senna had been whisked away at a young age to a safe house that was manned by the Order of the White Lotus. Curiously, while she was an excellent waterbender and a diligent pupil, she had never managed to master any of the other elements, though she made up for it by mastering her spiritual side by the age of ten.

It wasn't until fifteen years after the comet and fall of the Air Nomads when they finally located her. An impatient and unsatisfied Lotus grunt had sneaked the coordinates and security details of the safe house to the Fire Nation. Sozin had his agents watch the seemingly nondescript cottage in order to learn the residents' routines in greater detail before striking. They struck during noontime on the day before the new moon, playing the waterbenders' biggest weakness to their advantage.

The girl was dead by the end of the hour.

Sozin smirked into his tea cup as he read the report. Two down, one to go.

* * *

Five years later, an elderly fire lord was sitting at his desk, looking over the documents laying in front of him. He knew that he was getting old, and that his time in the world would come soon to an end. The Earth Kingdom seemed to have put together better protections for their avatar than the Water Tribes had – he could barely find a trace of him! It would take far longer than fifteen years to find this one. He knew that it was unlikely that he would still be alive by then, and his eldest son, Azulon, would be the one to find and eliminate this avatar. That brought his attention to the papers. He was preparing his will. Azulon would, of course, inherit his title and position as Fire Lord, but he wanted to make sure that the Fire Nation fought the war on _his_ terms, no matter if he was dead. In order to become the Fire Lord, Azulon would have to vow on his life that he would not actively seek the destruction of the other nations. It was the least that he could do in honor of his old friend.

Two weeks later, the Fire Nation mourned for the leader who had brought them to prosperity, and Fire Lord Azulon ascended to the throne.

* * *

Fire Lord Azulon's aged features stretched stiffly into a smile. Looking at it from any angle, his life and reign as fire lord couldn't be going better. He had provided his nation with two heirs – Iroh, who had leagues of power and wisdom beyond his years, and Ozai, whose intelligence matched that of any scholar and secured the line of succession beyond a doubt. Iroh had done his duty as well, and had given him a grandson – Lu Ten, a smart young man who was quickly assuring them that he was his father's son. Ozai and his wife, Ursa, had as well, only the day before. He now had yet another member to his family – Prince Zuko. The only regrets were the tragic passings of both his wife and elder daughter-in-law, and his continued failure to bring down the Avatar.

"Fire Lord Azulon, sir! Sir!" His attention was drawn from the sleeping infant. His sons were, sadly, on a diplomatic trip to try to wrestle information on the Avatar's whereabouts out of King Bumi, the longtime ruler of Omashu, and his grandson had gone with them as an observer and aid. Ursa was, at the insistence of the midwife, resting in her room, and not expected to wake up until mid-morning. It had been a difficult birth, and Prince Zuko had started fighting his way out of his mother's womb just after sunset. The healers hadn't been sure if he would survive during the first few hours, but they now assured him that the babe was perfectly healthy and expected to live. As a result, he was the only one there to watch as the fourth in line to the Fire Nation throne lived the first hours of his life.

The servant who had been so frantically calling his name was now at the door, hunched over in a deep bow as he clutched a scroll to his chest, chattering excitedly and barely able to keep still. "Sire, the Avatar – he's dead! The message just arrived. Late last night, they found him and killed him. They bound his arms and legs together and stabbed his leg right at sunset. He bled to death, sir, over a period of hours. But he's dead, sir! Dead!"

The wrinkly smile widened as he absorbed the information. If the Avatar had died once again, then he would have been reborn into the Fire Nation, right when his Earth Kingdom incarnate died. Stabbed at sunset and slowly dying over several hours… His gaze flickered to his newborn grandson as his grin widened further.

"How… interesting."

* * *

Word of a newborn prince spread quickly throughout the Fire Nation, but even faster was news that the child born to Prince Ozai and Princess Ursa was suspected to be the Avatar – the one with the ability to turn the tides of any war. Before his family was even able to process it for themselves, Prince Zuko became one of the most celebrated royals in Fire Nation history. The one-week-old just watched blankly as he was carried onto the balcony in his mother's arms, only to be met with thunderous applause and cheering. His mother beamed with joy as she kissed his head, and his father, standing beside her, smirked with pride.

The new parents backed away from the edge of the balcony as the cheering died down. The courtyard below became hushed as the Fire Lord stepped up to where his son and daughter-in-law had just been standing.

"Agni has blessed us," he called, his old, brittle voice loud and strong, "for one week ago today, he gifted my son and daughter-in-law with a child." Shouts and applause swelled again as the people relished in the life of Prince Zuko. "This son," Azulon said, louder, "was born as the Avatar was dying." Yells of triumph erupted from below. Smiling, their ruler waited for them to quiet down before continuing. "The Fire Sages have conducted every test they could, and it has been confirmed." He paused and nodded to his son. Once again, the Minor Prince and Princess stepped up to the edge of the balcony. "And so, I present to you, Avatar Zuko, Prince of the Fire Nation!"

* * *

The next two years passed peacefully enough. Prince Zuko was a happy, bouncy baby, and was raised almost like every other child was. Of course, some factors made his upbringing a _mite _different from the average baby, like being a prince, for example, or the avatar. Hoping to have him bending as soon as possible, Ozai incorporated a few things into what he and his wife were so eagerly trying to teach him. One such thing would be getting Zuko to imitate deep breathing, as firebending came from the breath, or tracing the channels where his chi flowed through and getting the infant to understand that there was _something_ there, even if he didn't know what.

When he was home, his Uncle Iroh would try to familiarize him with the other elements. They had a small water hole added to the garden, specifically so the youngest prince could splash around and learn to enjoy the water. The servants had learned to prepare several sets of clothing for him each day, as Iroh would encourage the child to play in the dirt and give him fans with which to play with the air.

His teenage cousin, Lu Ten or "Lulu," as he had happily dubbed him, could often be found giving the child small light shows with his firebending when he wasn't busy with studying to eventually become the Fire Lord or training to improve his own bending and tactical skills. When his male relatives weren't distracting him with something, Ursa would take him out to the turtle duck pond and sing to him – although it was a challenge to keep him out of the water after the conditioning Iroh gave him.

Azulon watched proudly as his family became closer over the arrival of the child, and felt like no time had passed when they welcomed yet another life into the world. Princess Azula, named after him, was a prodigy. By the time she began her official firebending training at the age of four, she had already been manipulating the fire in the lanterns at will. Iroh once commented to him that in twenty years, between Lu Ten, Zuko, and Azula, the Fire Nation would be nigh unstoppable.

He couldn't agree more.

* * *

As the years went on, the Fire Nation watched on proudly as their youngest prince and princess grew up. Zuko and Azula were everything that the Fire Nation could have hoped for their royals to be – attractive, intelligent, powerful, sharp-witted. There was only one thing they could find fault with.

No matter how hard he tried, Zuko couldn't control the other elements. It had gotten to the point where his beloved Uncle Iroh took some prisoners – who were apparently masters of waterbending and earthbending, respectively – and dug up old records on airbending that the fire sages had been hoarding for years and years. Unfortunately, the old general's efforts were in vain.

When Zuko was thirteen, Azulon decided that it was time that he personally intervened. It was announced that in, order to continue his training in a more natural environment, Prince Zuko was to travel the world on his journey to become a fully realized avatar. It was hoped that being around the cultures from which the other elements had come from would help him with his own bending.

As far as avatar troubles went, however, that was the only one. While he was still struggling to learn the other types of bending, Zuko couldn't have been more in tune with his spiritual side if he tried. He had tried to use this to his advantage and asked his past lives over and over to help his struggles with bending. Unfortunately, they didn't know what was wrong either, and could only say that it would come in time.

The day when he was to leave on his travels was a busy one. It seemed as if the entire Capital City had come to see him off. Trumpeters and choir boys were lined up the sides the streets, and there were elaborate decorations in classic Fire Nation red everywhere. His entire family was there, including his grandfather, who was usually busy ruling the country and was more god than man to the young prince. He shared an emotional goodbye with his mother – she just couldn't believe that her little boy was leaving home – and shared a sad grin with his sister. His uncle and cousin – both of whom were coming with him – made their farewells as well. It seemed far too early when the captain started shouting from the deck, indicating that the ship was ready to go. Giving the only home he had ever had a final glance, Zuko headed up the gangplank, waving from the deck until the pier was nothing but a speck of brown against the reds and blues of the scenery.

He stood there for a bit longer, just watching and not comprehending the situation for what it was. He heard quiet footsteps behind him and a heavy hand fell on his shoulder. He turned to see his uncle and cousin standing behind him.

"Everything will be different from now on," he said quietly.

"Yes, it will. But change is a part of life, Nephew," his uncle said soothingly. "At least this change isn't very bad. It could be worse than it is."

"Yeah…"

* * *

Three years had passed since Prince Zuko had been sent on his journey around the world. They had spent much of the time sailing around the Earth Kingdom in search of a master willing to train the Fire Nation prince.

At the moment, they were taken a break from the Earth Kingdom – the constant lack of positive reaction had taken its toll on the young avatar's morale – and were heading to the Southern Water Tribe in the hopes of finding a waterbending teacher. Everyone on deck knew it was a futile effort – the Fire Nation had wiped out the last of the waterbenders from the Southern Tribe years ago, but the Northern Tribe was too hostile and well protected to approach, so the southerners were the only choice they had.

They had spotted a village and were sailing closer to it when Prince Iroh saw something very strange. A beam of light appeared off in the horizon, shooting up and up before widening, quickly becoming a thick cylinder of energy. He called and shouted until the entire deck was full of sailors and crewmen, staring at the phenomenon and trying to identify it. Iroh caught the eyes of his son and nephew and nodded.

Something was happening.

* * *

Aang hummed softly as he gently patted Appa's head. He stared out at the wide, blue ocean, dotted with the occasional iceberg. Katara – his new waterbending friend – helpfully pointed out directions as her brother, Sokka, grumbled under his breath. Aang's breath came out in soft, white puffs as he tried to relax in spite of the frigid temperature.

Eventually, a massive block of ice came into view, looking very imposing with the sheer size that the ice-cold waves lapped harshly against. The young monk quickly helped his new friends off of Appa before helping the behemoth onto relatively dry land.

"Come on, Aang. The village's this way," Katara said invitingly, pointedly ignoring Sokka's complaints. He petted Appa reassuringly for a few moments before following the Water Tribe siblings through the freezing terrain.

Their shuffled pace became quicker as they neared the village, and Sokka became frantic when he saw the large, black ship docked near the edge of the iceberg. He sprinted ahead of them and into the middle of the village, hollering all the while and running inside one of the igloos, emerging a few seconds later with a spear in one hand and a boomerang in the other. His shouts drew out the rest of the villagers and threw them into a panic, running this way and that, and dissolving into hysterics. Aang stood in the middle of the chaos, confused, as Katara stiffened at his side.

"I knew it!" Sokka shrieked once some semblance of order had been reached. He pointed a gloved finger accusingly at the air nomad as the other tribesmen huddled together. "You're a spy! Do you know what you've done?! You drew the Fire Nation to us!" His voice had reached a particularly high note by the end, and Aang winced at the sound.

"What? What are you talking about?" He stared at the teenage boy, completely baffled. "I didn't draw anyone! Or at least, I think I didn't…"

Sokka glanced at the ship and seemed to get even more hysterical. "Lies! Lies! Katara, I told you it was a bad idea to trust him! Look what's happened now!"

Black soot started falling from the sky, and Aang wondered why the villagers got so upset at the sight of it. His ears twitched as he heard the crunch of snow being crushed underfoot, and Sokka whirled around, holding his spear aggressively as if trying to protect the entire village at once.

A row of black and red figures appeared behind a large snowdrift. They were led by a middle aged, cheerful looking man who was flanked by two young men, one who looked to be somewhere in his twenties while the other seemed barely older than Sokka. A group of men in strange, metallic uniforms trooped at the boys' sides and back, appearing to be some sort of guard unit.

The leader smiled warmly as they approached, giving off a friendly vibe as he gave a small bow. "Greetings! I'm sorry that we came unannounced, but may we speak with you fine people?"

Aang watched in bewilderment as Sokka snarled something unintelligible before rushing towards him with a war cry, spear raised high in the air as he charged. Katara jerked behind him, hand stretched toward him as a cry fell from her lips. "Sokka, no!"

The middle aged man calmly sidestepped him before tugging the spear from his grasp and gently tripping him, causing the hotheaded teen to fall face-first into the snow. His arms pinwheeled dramatically in an attempt to keep upright until gravity took its hold. He didn't move for a moment before rolling onto his backside and scowling, glaring daggers at the Fire Nation man.

He chuckled serenely at him. "It is nice to see such spirit in one so young. I am glad."

The warrior pushed himself to his feet, scowling deeper at the comment. "What do you want?" he spat, drawing his boomerang from it sheathe and hunching into a stance. "What's the Fire Nation trying to destroy this time?"

"Please, calm down," he said soothingly, hands held up in a gesture of peace. "We do not wish to fight. Only talk."

"Then talk." He eyed the foreign entourage warily, boomerang still fisted tightly in one hand.

"First, some gifts." The guardsmen around them came forward, each of them holding bundles of items. Aang felt his curiosity stretch towards them, wondering what was inside them. "In our culture, it does not do to go visiting without a gift for the host, especially unexpected." They were placed halfway between the two groups before their bearers slowly backed back into their former positions.

Sokka gave the packages a distrustful look before turning his attention back to the leader, ignoring them all together. Some of the children behind him began tittering, wondering what they were before being hurriedly hushed by their harried mothers.

"Before anything else, may I ask why there is an air nomad amongst you?" the middle aged man asked politely. Aang gave him a wide grin, oblivious to the stares of everyone around them.

"We found him and he gave us a ride home," Katara said in a clipped tone. A gray eyebrow was raised, a silent request for further explanation, but she refused to say anything else, instead glaring at them with a mix of hostility and fear.

"Well, that's very kind, young air nomad," he said gently, smiling kindly at Aang. "I have heard rumors of the selfless ways of your people, and I am sad to say that I have never before held witness to those claims."

Aang beamed again as Sokka snorted. An elderly woman spoke up from the mass of blue and white. "You'll forgive me, but, somehow, I don't think that the Fire Lord was very _sad_ when he was wiping out the air nomads in the first place."

"Gran-gran…"

"Wait, what?" The tattooed boy looked from one elder to another. Wiping out the air nomads? How long had he been in that iceberg?

Golden eyes hardened. "You are forgiven. I am sorry, but I cannot claim to understand Fire Lord Sozin's thoughts all those years ago. I would like to ask that I not be held accountable for my ancestor's actions."

"'Ancestor's'?" Sokka exclaimed. His boomerang jerked up into his hand and he stared at them with renewed wariness.

The man nodded before a genial smile spread across his face once more. In spite of it, the teenager didn't let his guard down. Never trust the enemy. These people were Fire Nation. They had killed his mother and countless members of his tribe. Never trust the enemy. "I'm afraid you haven't given us the chance to introduce ourselves. I am General Iroh, Crown Prince of the Fire Nation and the Dragon of the West."

There were muffled thumps as Sokka scrambled into a more battle ready stance, coming to rest directly in front of the rest of his village. Aang cocked his head curiously, ignoring his new friend's sudden increase in paranoia. Whimpers and cries of fear were heard from the blue-clad group as mothers hugged their children to them.

The newly-identified Iroh ignored their reaction before gesturing to the young man to his right. "This is my son, Prince Lu Ten." The handsome young man gave an easy grin that did nothing to soothe the fearful villagers before bowing, much lower than his father had. He retreated back to his place, slightly behind the middle-aged man, still smiling and giving off a similar aura as his father.

The youngest of their entourage stepped forward as a slightly wrinkled, calloused hand waved towards him. He was already parallel to the ground when his introduction was given. "My nephew, son of Prince Ozai and Princess Ursa. This is Avatar Zuko."

… –


End file.
